Ashes to Ashes
by HazelVervain
Summary: Set at the start of season 6, introducing an original character and exploring the possiblity of what if Buffy HAD come back wrong? Staring Spike! First in a series.
1. Prologue: The Greatest Sacrefice

Ashes to Ashes

First in a series

Prologue: The Greatest Sacrefice

By Shelley L. Inks

_Meet me after dark again and I'll hold you_

_I aim nothing more than to see you there_

_And maybe tonight, we'll fly so far away_

_We'll be lost before the dawn_

_If only night can hold you where I can see you, my love_

_Then let me never ever wake again_

_And maybe tonight, we'll fly so far away_

_We'll be lost before the dawn_

_Somehow I know that we cant wake again from this dream_

_It's not real, but it's ours_

_Maybe tonight, we'll fly so far away_

_We'll be lost before the dawn_

_Maybe tonight, we'll fly so far away_

_We'll be lost before the dawn_

In those last precious moments time spun out in slow motion on the tower, a huge metal construct built of scaffording that overlooked the beseiged Californian town of Sunnydale. And for that interlude Buffy and Dawn Summers seemed to be the only two people in the world, issolated on the narrow walkway overlooking the quickly expanding portal. Drops of thick scarlet, Dawn's priceless blood, flowed from the many shallow slashes in her stomach, soaking the material of the gothic ceremonial dress she'd been forced into and down her bare feet, over her toes. Small circles of light, like ripples in a pond, growing ever larger. The gateway between worlds had been ripped open. Jagged holes and gashes appeared in the streets, releasing demons of all kinds. Far below the ground trembled and buildings were reduced to rumble in a matter of moments. Truely, it was Hell on Earth.

As lightning high-lighted her tearful face in brillant shades of blue Dawn looked up at her older sister guiltily,"I'm sorry..."

"It doesn't matter," Buffy murmured, resigned to the end of existence. She would protect Dawn with her last breath. In truth, she almost welcomed it. She felt a weariness that ate all the way to the core of her being, the desire to just lay down and let fate take control.

Suddenly the teenager tried to dart past her but with her Slayer reflexes she held her back, bewildered,"What are you doing?"

"I have to jump. The energy..."

"It'll kill you!" Buffy argued, unwilling to sacrefice her only family.

"I know," the dark-haired girl whispered, meeting her sister's eyes."Buffy, I know about the ritual. I have to stop it."

"No." Beneath them the tower trembled violently, making both syblings stumble for balance. As a fierce crackle of lightning split the sky a massive black dragon was born of the portal and circled the structure before roaring into the night.

"I have to. Look at what's happening!" Dawn cried in distress, racked with guilt from Buffy's anguished expression. She loved her sister so, but this was her destiny, her purpose for being."Buffy, you have to let me go. Blood starts it, and until the blood stops flowing, it'll never stop. You know you have to let me. It _has _to have the blood."

In a flash of pained rememberence it all came flooding back, a seemingly endless mass of jumbled days and weeks. How long had she been fighting? It felt like forever.

_"Cause it's always got to be blood," Spike had said earlier that very evening, perched on the loft's ladder in the magic shop, a cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth._

_Further back to the hospital. Buffy drawing blood from her wounded hand, pressing her palm to Dawn's red stained one so their life force mixed as their fingers laced. "It's Summers blood. It's just like mine."_

_This evening again, Buffy arguing her case to her friends,"She's me. The monks made her out of me."_

_Then to the fireside in the dessert, haunted by the spirit of The First Slayer who told her,"Death is your gift..."_

The present came back into focus. Buffy turned and gazed into the distance, the wind tussling her blond locks, and for the first time since her arrival in Sunnydale she felt truely at peace. A deep calm settled within her turmoiled soul. She knew with absolute clarity what was required of her.

As if reading her mind Dawn's eyes widened and she shook her head slowly in denial,"Buffy ... _no!"_

"Dawnie, I have to."

"No!" the younger girl sobbed, leanning against her, clinging to her possessively, trying to hold her back.

Buffy grasp her sister gently by her upper arms, steadying her as she continued to speak, a final, enduring speech Dawn would later pass on to their closest friends. "Listen to me. Please, there's not a lot of time, listen," she tenderly stroked the wounded side of Dawn's pale face, kissing away the tears that coursed down her cheek,"Dawn, listen to me. Listen. I love you. I will _always _love you. But this is the work that I have to do. Tell Giles ... tell Giles I figured it out. And, and I'm okay. And give my love to my friends. You have to take care of them now.You have to take care of each other. You have to be strong. Dawn, the hardest thing in this world ... is to live in it. Be brave. Live. For me."

Moments later Buffy the Vampire Slayer raced down the platform as Dawn stood left behind, sobbing. In a graceful swan-dive she leapt into the open air and fell into the gateway. The portal shrank away to nothingness and vanished. In the distance the sun began to rise. Buffy's lifeless form was found at the base of the tower, lying amid the debris. She was buried in a lush graveyard, surrounded by shade-giving trees and lively grass. Engraved on her headstone above a fresh bunch of wildflowers were the words:

BUFFY ANNE SUMMERS  
1981-2001  
BELOVED SISTER  
DEVOTED FRIEND  
SHE SAVED THE WORLD  
A LOT

Disclaimer: Obviously this scene and the plot to this point belongs to JossWhedon. From here on most of the ideas are mine and Onyx Nightfur/Nasira is a creation of my mind. All feedback is much appreciated! Onward with the story!


	2. Hellmouth Homecoming

**Ashes to Ashes**

_First in a series_

**Chapter One: Hellmouth Homecoming**

**By Shelley L. Inks**

She was bored. And Disgusted on top of that. The dark-haired woman slouched in a shadowed booth in a Middle of Nowhere Southern Californian bar. Calling this place a dive would have elevated it five notches, she mused. The table was rusted metal with edges sharp enough to theaten tetanus and the bar-keeps's idea of a deep clean seemed to be hosing whatever was spilled or tracked in into the sunken drain in the middle of the room. Not only that but it was frigging _HOT!_ No doubt the cup of whatever vile brew passed that passed for coffee in this joint was losing more liquid to evaporation that to her drinking it.

A half-broken fan overhead provided little relief as it turned in lazy circles with a low _whomp-whomp _sound. When she downright thought about it the only pleasant feature of this hole was that the dim light sheilded her eyes from having to take in the other patrons, a particularly scummy mix of low-level demons and Humans. Loud rock music tormented her extremely sensitive ears as she eyed the dozen dust-covered motorcycles parked out front. Their owners, a crew of leather jacketed and multi-pierced demons, lounged around the bar drinking and bullying the help. Several bore the word "Hellion" on the back of their attire.

She tilted her head curiously and turned to watch two ruffians in conversation as their words reached and intrigued her.

The first speaker, a newly risen Vampire with perhaps all of a year of death under his belt at most and a very whiney voice, was saying,"So I got her cornered in this alley, see..."

His audience, one of the higher ranking muscular biker demons entitled Mag, eyed him skeptically in the ease-dropping woman's shared disbelief. He seemed like he was listening more out of being unable to rid himself of the Vampire than from true interest. "You get the _Slayer_ cornered."

"Yeah," The vamp insisted, self-importantly drawing himself up to his fully unimpressive height,"I figured it's my duty. She's a menace to our society. So we fight, and I'm like, _pow pow pow_." He made a few clumsy punching gestures by way of demostration and the woman rolled her eyes with a quiet snort. "And I got her on the ropes."

Apparently Mag was annoyed by this unbelievable tale as he turned and seized the Vampire by the throat, growling,"You're lying to me..."

The blood-sucker's yellow eyes widened and his voice shot up to a new level of irritating as he choked out meekly,"I swear on all that's unholy! You haven't even heard the best part. I cut her, right? And she's... I don't know, some kind of _machine_. She's not _Human_!"

Mag scrutinized his gaze for a moment for any sign of dishonesty, then dropped him dismissively,"You're high." She was inclined to agree, even if she wasn't sure exactly what illegal narcotics actually effected Vampires.

"I'm tellin' you, it wasn't even the Slayer, man. It was like a trick. A _robot_."

Startled, she whirled to face them but luckily neither noticed. As the Vampire started to guzzle his beer Mag grabbed him and hustled him through the crowd to a spot even closer to her. Razor, the biker' gang's leader, by far the largest and most gruesome of of the bar's occupants, sat in a booth two down from her, surrounded by his cronies. He eyed the Vampire disdainfully then turned his attention to Mag,"What's with the blood rat?"

"Talk," Mag snarled at the unfortunate leech, giving him a good shove to loosen his tongue.

No longer quite so cocky, the nervous bloodsucker stammered,"Okay, uh, so, I was over in Sunnydale, minding my own beeswax, when I see the Slayer..."

Mag shook him hard enough to rattle his fangs,"The part about the _robot_."

Once more trying to inflate his ego, the Vampire puffed out his chest,"We fought, right? And I was like all over her.." Again with the pathetic punching gestures before Mag cut him off.

"He says the Slayer's been replaced by some kind of machine."

Now Razor looked interest.

"A robot, yeah! And I kicked her synthetic ass. You shoulda seen the sparks..."

Razor stood up abruptly, towering over the foolish Vampire who no longer seemed so keen on being the center of attention as he wilted under the demon's gaze. By now most every unnatural being in the bar was watching intently. "You tellin' me there's no Slayer in Sunnydale?"

In her inconspicuous booth the female leaned forward, craning to catch every word.

"That's what I'm saying, they got some kind of decoy standing in for her." The Vamp, sensing all eyes were on him, filled his voice with false bravado,"Town is wide open."

"No where like the Hellmouth for a party. There's all kinds of bad in that place," Mag spoke up. Razor nodded thoughtfully as the gang broke into malicious laughter. Thinking he was accepted into the group for the time being the Vampire laughed too and patted Razor on the chest. Bad move.

"I guess with your muscle, uh, you could own it in no time." The whiney bloodsucker made a nervous chuckle and air quoted his rattling,"Hey look, I know you guys don't usually let Vampires join the gang, and I got the whole _sunlight issue_. But I was thinking, you know, as thanks for the 4-1-1, you could let me go..."

He never got to finish. The vamp's headless body hit the floor with a thud and exploded into dust. Razor brushed the ashy remains of his head from his hands,"I'll think it over."

He rotated to take in his cohorts all watching him eagerly and gave the words they sought."Let's ride!"

A rancorous cheer went up and moments later they sped off on their bikes in a cloud of churned up dirt.

She waited five minutes before getting up. One of her well-scuffed army style boots gave the dusted Vampire a disdainful kick, unsettling his remains, before she ventured out the door. The Slayer was gone? She'd heard word of this Slayer, the same who had bested Angelus and the Master Vampire. If the Hellmouth was truely unprotected many innocent people were about to be hurt. She couldn't allow that. Besides, she'd been traveling in that direction anyway.

With a quick glance to make sure her pressence had gone undetected she closed her eyes in concentration. Black fur swept over her skin as her legs shrunk and tucked under her body. Her nose stretched to become a muzzle and her hindquarters sprouted a bushy tail. In the place the mysterious young woman had stood now was a magnificent ebony colored wolf. She could move far faster this way.

Her four legs tore off, carrying her at blinding speed. She would arrive in Sunnydale shortly before them.

"Does everybody have their candles?" Willow asked nervously. She, Tara, Xander, and Anya stood in a semicircle in the dark cemetery beside Buffy's grave.

"I'm trying, my lighter won't stay lit," Anya complained, continuously flicking the lighter in frustration.

"Well, hurry, it has to..."

"What time is it?" Tara glanced around.

Xander checked his watch uneasily,"A minute 'till midnight."

"C'mon, Anya, do you have it?"

"I got it, I got it. I got it!" Anya exclaimed excitedly as she managed to light her candle.

"Okay,start the circle. Now." Willow instructed. The four friends knelt, holding their candles, all but Willow who was acting as the High Priestess in this forbidden ceremony, who held an ancient Urn of Osiris. The Egyptian God of Death. She produced a small jar of fawn's blood killed earlier that morning and poured the crimson fluid into the urn."Osiris, Keeper of the Gate, Master of All Fate, hear us." Finishing this opening summons she dipped her finger in the blood and drew a thick line across her forehead and both cheeks in it, then poured the remaing contents of the urn out to soak into the ground."Before time, and after. Before knowing and nothing. Accept our offering. Know our prayer." Suddenly she jerked backward, panting. An invisible force pinned her amrs to her sides and scored deep gashes along them like a horrifying redition of Nightmare on Elm Street.

"_Willow!"_ Xander yelped, reaching for her but Tara stopped him.

"**No!** She t - she told me ... she'd be tested. This is supposed to happen."

"Osiris! Here lies the warrior of the people. Let her cross over." Willow's voice was now determined, more challenging. She winced in pain as small mouse-like lumps moved under her skin up her arms. The Wiccan gave a low moan as her eyes rolled back.

"She needs help!"

"Xander, she's strong! She said not to stop, no matter what. If we break the cycle now, it's over." Tara bit her lip as they watched anxiously. the only sound was Willow's heavy breathing until a loud rumbling filled the air.

"Oh God, what is that noise?" Anya whispered.

Onyx's calculations had been off she found as she surveyed the damage. Citizens of Sunnydale screamed and tried to run as the demon gang roared down Main Street, smashing windows, breaking in car wind sheilds, and looting stores. What a mess. The stench of smoke curled in her nostrils, making her wrinkle her muzzle enough to bare a wicked set of long ivory incisors. She padded over the rubbish of broken beer bottles, careful not tostep on the shattered glass. Taking a quick inventory of their arsenal, she noted it seemed to consist of mostly nail-studded baseball bats and the occasional Molotov cocktail . That was good. No silver. Many buildings were ablaze which was not so good but she'd have to attempt to tend to that later.

Her form shifted again, back to Human stance, as she boldly stepped over broken glass to approach Mag who was plundering a store window's display. A sweet feminine voice made them both stop short."That doesn't belong to you." A lovely blond girl close to Onyx's own age stood in the center of the choas, her hands on her hips,"Put it back."

Mag opened his fang ringed maw and let loose a high-pitched rallying cry. The other demons closed in on the vastly outnumbered Buffy-bot. Spike's former sex-toy glanced around nervously as the gang converged on her in a tight circle. She wasn't programmed to fight groups this large. Panic surged though her,overwhelming her circuits. Her central computer rapidly skimmed through various battle strategies that might work in the current situation.

"Slayer," Razor growled, stalking up to the robot,"I've been hearing interesting things about you..."

"Yes. I am interesting," she replied pertly with an odd innocence, taking in the demons with a glance,"These your friends?"

"They're my boys, yeah."

"Good." The Slayer smiled politely with astonishing patience,"Now tell them to get back on their loud bicycles and go back wherever they came from."

Razor sneered,"Or what? You'll electrocute us?" He delivered a solid punch to her face, making her stagger back into a couple of his cronies who were waiting and caught her by her arms."Hold her," Razor rumbled as the bot struggled and he stepped forward, lifting his hand, revealing a set of ugly claws. Then an even uglier set of serrated metal claws popped out at the ends of his fingers.

The blow never fell. Just as he made ready to strike her a huge black hand-like paw caught his hand and jerked him around. Towering over the demon was a massive Werewolf, her mouthful of fangs curved fangs bared as saliva dripped from her snarling jaws. Standing fully erect on crooked legs, the creature was a mass of pure muscle and fury, an odd half-way point between wolf and Human.

"What the Hell..."

With an Earth-shattering roar the Werewolf backhanded him across the street into a dented car, making the alarms wail. The seven foot tall beast settled her smoldering golden gaze on the two bikers who still held the Buffybot hostage. When she spoke her words were a guttral, nearly unintelligable snarl,"Let her go."

Confused and bewildered they obeyed and stumbled back. Razor lurched to his feet and pointed at the two females, spittle flying in rage,"GET THEM!"

Onyx glanced around quickly and determined the two of them could not kill all these demons alone. That left only one option. Looking sharply at the Buffy-bot she grunted one word: "Run."

The bot did a backflip and kicked one demon in the face then delivered a whirling spin-kick to three demons before punching a last one out of her way and sprinting down the street. Shifting to her fully wolf form as she ran not a yard behind, Onyx charged and bull-rushed two bikers, going right over them. Her claws shredded their leather jackets and flesh, leaving them shrieking. The rest of the demons hurried to their motorcycles and sped off after the fleeing pair.


	3. All Out Brawl

Ashes to Ashes

First in a Series

Chapter Two: All Out Brawl

By Shelley L. Inks

Anya, Xander, and Tara continued to watch helplessly as orange light swirled around Willow, who was kneeling beside Buffy's grave, struggling to maintain conciousness as she panted for breath," Osiris, release her!"

"Willow! _Willow, help!_"The Buffybot shrieked as she darted into the clearing, followed by what appeared to be a large, black German shepard as best as they could make out in the darkness. Motorcycles revved uproariously as the demons burst into view, surrounding them all. The trio clutched each other in fear, Willow still trapped in the midst of her spell. Circling wildly one bike crashed over the urn, shattering it and disrupting the energy.

"_NO!_" Willow screamed as the reddish light around her vanished and she collapsed in a faint. Tara tried to reach her but Mag cut her off on his motorcycle, leering at the pretty blond Wiccan lewdly.

"Look what I found..."

Just then the dog, though Tara suddenly understood it was a wolf, pounced him from behind, knocking him off the bike which skidded across the grave.

"Willow!" Tara rushed to her lover's side and cradled her head in her arms.

Onyx growled as four of the five demons present made a simultaneous ludge for her and she exploded into her wolf-woman form. She never side-stepped, or even tried. When the gang formed a football team style pile-up on her, throwing wild punches which mostly landed on their friends, she threw them off her as easily as a shrug. With a deep, guttral sound of anger her fangs sank into one biker's arm and tore it free with a wet rip. It soaked the Earth and freshly churned gave with the ichorous spray of blood.

As her claws found the base of another's neck and tore away a third's face, she caught sight of the Buffybot throwing a roundhouse kick. The robot occasionally shot out a shower of sparks from her chest, indicating she was injuried. As for the Human bystanders doing Gaia knew what in the graveyard at this hour, they all stood frozen in shock. She rolled her topaz eyes and snarled in disgust. Why didn't they run instead of making targets of themselves? She forced instinct to give way to intellect, and as the legion of able-bodied foes thinned, much to the Human's shock she sank back into her own woman form. Her piercing golden hued eyes shot a glare at the young people huddled over the prone form of the red-head.

"_Get out of here_! What, do you have a death wish er something?" she demanded as she rushed to aide the out-numbered Slayer robot. The well toned muscles in her legs carried her off the ground in a leap and she connected full-force with a biker's head, knocking him off his vehicle as it bore down on the now twitching, shivering robot. Slightly out of breath she tucked a lock of ebony hair behind one slightly pointed ear and addressed the automatron,"Hey!"

The bot turned to face her. Claws had torn her sweater and the synthetic flesh on one side of her chest to reveal a network of wiring and gears. "I am injured. I must return to Willow."

"Sure, whatever," Onyx caught her breath,"Hey do any of you..." She paused as she realized the Humans had finally fled. "Oh, sure, _NOW_ you leave..."

"Thank you for saving me. I must return to Willow so she can fix me now,"the Buffybot smiled cheerfully and turned to go but walked into a tree. To the Werewolf's astonishment she backed up and walked into it yet again. Before she could brain herself a third time Onyx caught her by her arm and held her back.

"Whoa! Hold on there, Barbie.."

"Buffy. Buffy Summers," the robot corrected her with an ever present smile Onyx was beginning to find annoying.

"Okay, _BUFFY_. You're in no shape to be trapsing off on your own. Now if you're going to find this Fern person.."

"Willow. She is my best friend. She is gay. She lives with Tara. Tara is gay too," the Buffybot informed her like a bright and eager student, still suffering from erratic twitches and short-circuits. Her clothes were torn and hung loosely on her perfectly moded form, revealing unnaturalslashes of silver through synthetic flesh here and there.

"More info than I needed,"Onyx replied, massaging her forehead with two fingers. She sighed and righted the crashed motorcycle. "Hop on, I'll give you a lift home...you _do_ know where you live, right?"

"Sixteen-thirty Rivelo near Hadley."

"I can work with that.."

She started the bike with a protesting rumble before it grudgingly fell into gear and carried it's two passengers out of the graveyard and into the night.

With all the confusion abound no one was there to notice the shifting of the disturbed Earth over Buffy Summer's fresh grave. The dirt rose a bit then fell as if struggling to keep something it had digested down. Suddenly, like a gruesome birth, a white, bloody hand burst free, spraying clods of damp filth in all directions. It felt desperately for a grip to pull itself free, towing the rest of it's connected body with it. In savage frustration from the lack of immediate progress claws sprouted from the fingertips, wrenching the attached head to the surface where it gasp for air, eyes gleaming an unholy red.

Then the claws shrank away and Buffy Anne Summers drug herself onto the grass, panting. She glanced around slowly, taking in her surroundings, then calmly rose to her feet and followed the echoing screams into town. Behind her the demonic blood from the severed appendage dripped steadily into her now splintered, empty coffin.

Inside the darkened Summers residence the sounds of the town-wide raid were loud enough to set all nerves on edge as the bikers trashed the once pleasant suburbian neighborhood. Dawn crouched by the window, peering out fearfully as a Molotav cocktail exploded and set the porch of a house two doors down ablaze.

Behind her Spike rummaged through Buffy's weapon chest, muttering to himself dismally about the lack of provisions then yelped as he burned his hand on a cross. Shaking it to cool the injury, he noticed her position and whirled, stalking over to push her behind him,"Here! Want me to bloody thump you? I told you to stay away from the windows."

Dawn started to protest when the air was filled with agonized shrieks and the sounds of the brawl intensified to a frenzied roar. Her Vampire protector drew her to him comfortingly and smoothed her hair back just as the sounds died away.

Silence followed for what seemed like an eternity then the teen let out a startled cry as something banged against the door insistantly. The demons had come to call. Her heart hammered wildly as she whimpered, digging her fingers into the worn leather of Spike's trench coat before he lowered his voice and grasp her by the shoulders gently but firmly. Speaking in a urgent tone, he looked down into her eyes,"Get behind the couch. No matter what, don't move until I tell you to, then run. You hear me?"

She nodded faintly and scurried back into the appointed hiding place as he snatched up a stake and held it ready, crossing to the door and slamming it open. Spike brought the stake forward and down with such force that he nearly couldn't stop and only managed to halt it's flight a bare inch from the forehead of the strange woman who stood on the doorstep.

Flabbergasted to silence, he stood taking her in with his gaze, the stake still poised to drive into her skull. She was in her early to mid-twenties as most, just beyond girlhood to a creature as old as he, but stood with a posture that spoke volumes of self-confidence and street experience. There was a cut below the line of her ebony hair on the right temple and blood dripped from one corner of her mouth. Surrounded by thick, full lashes, honey-hued eyes calmly returned his curious inspection. Dust and blood, most of it apparently not hers, stained her jeans and jacket which clung to a tight, atheletic form.

The woman cleared her throat and arched a finely shaped brow, breaking the spell of speechlessness,"Do you make all your guests wait out in the cold with deadly weapons pointed at them?"


	4. Touched By a Demon

Ashes to Ashes

First in a Series

Chapter Three: Touched by a Demon

By Shelley L. Inks

The creature that had once been Buffy Anne Summers walked down a residential street, taking in the choas. In the distance behind her a siren wailed but she seemed not to notice. A pout crossed her pretty face, making her lower lip protrude. Someone had come to her city, her personal playground, and messed it all up. She'd been looking forward to doing that herself. With a sigh she leaned against a car parked in a driveway. Instantly the lights flares to life and it's security system began to honk loudly.

The house lights came on as the front door swung open and a man in his robe came out holding a shotgun pointed at her. She straightened up casually, showing no concern as he shouted at her, gesturing with the weapon, "What are you doing? Get away from there! Do you hear me?"

She narrowed her eyes disdainfully at this puny little man who presumed to order her about_. Who did he think he was? She was the Slayer! No...no she was even more than that now!_ She could feel the power coursing through her veins. The man dared to procede out onto the porch and her keen eyes could pick out the straining veins on the side of his neck and the nervous tick the corner of his mouth had developed. He was afraid of her. Smart, but evidently not smart enough for his own good.

"I said get off my property! Leave us alone. Get outta here!" He shrilled then fired off a warning shot into the air. She frowned and approached him, noting how badly his hands were shaking. Her eyes glittered ever so softly in the firelight like ruby chips set in her pretty face. He cut a ridiculous figure in his shabby bathrobe and pajamas. Insignificant little filth...

"You should have made that shot count.." she responded icily then the man suddenly gave a yelp and looked down at the gun in his hands. The metal had heated to a firey red and was now melting. He dropped it in shock and stared at her, backing away.

"What...what _are_ you?" He choked out in a whimper, pressing his back against the door and searching frantically for the doorknob to escape inside.

She looks up at him for a moment, and then smiled. "I'm Buffy. The Vampire Slayer. And you are...?" Suddenly her eyes lit up like burning embers and the man burst into flame. He shrieked and stumbled around for moment that two minutes before collapsing in a heap. Buffy frowned and tilted her head to one side,"Quite boring, really.." She shrugged as as an after-thought lit the entire house on fire, an amused expression crossing her face as she walked away, the sounds of the dying family trapped in the house echoing behind her.

"I need to find Willow," the Buffybot stated for at least the tenth time in the last half hour.

She walked toward the Summer's front door, knocking over a side table with a vase on it. Spike snatched the vase out of the air with one hand then turned to restrain the bot but found there was no need. She was walking determinedly into a wall repeatedly.

Onyx raised an eyebrow,"Some Slayer you got there..."

"She's NOT the real Slayer...Buffy...the Slayer, is dead," Spike said slowly, grabbing the bot and pulling her away from the wall, steering her over to the sofa and sitting her down. "Stay put now! There's bloody well enough things out there goin' bump in the night withou' you joining them."

"But my homing device locates Willow when I am injured. I am programmed to go to Willow," the bot insisted, sparks flying from her forehead as she furrowed her brow in confusion.

"We've had this discussion before, okay? Out of everyone here right now, I'm in charge. I'm the reason you were made to begin with so don't question me."

"I'm sorry, Spike.." A very affectionate look formed on her face as she stared at him and smiled,"You're right. You're always right. You have such good judgement and not just during sex!"

Having been drinking a pepsi Dawn had gotten her from the fridge Onyx coughed and spat out a mouthful of foamy soda in shock, shooting Spike a disgusted look as Dawn blushed and looked away. "I didn't need to hear that. Not at all.."

"Long story. It was a while ago," Spike muttered, running his fingers through his hair and stalking away to look out the window.

"I hope the others are okay...do..do you think they're okay?" Dawn asked, watching Spike's back as he stared out at the dying fires.

"Sure, pet. They're probably all huddled together safe as a bug in a rug," Spike replied with more confidence than he felt. Though if anything should happen to Xander he wouldn't really be that heartbroken about it...no. He frowned to himself. Can't think like that. It would upset Buffy. If only Buffy were here now...

Huddled safely in the Magic Shop the remaining Scoobies were having a nervous discussion. Anya cleared her throat and addressed Willow nervously, "Um, question. You want us to go back out there?"

"Well, yeah. Uh, unless somebody's got a better idea."

"Well, um, it's just ... we're minus a Buffybot. And, uh, Spike is missing in action somewhere with Dawn, and Giles flew away, and, uh, well you, you're looking a little magicked-out," Anya babbled, earning an uneasy look from her secret fiancee.

"Ahn honey, we're nearing your point, right?" Xander asked

"It's just how are we supposed to fight those guys? We can take a Vampire or two, sure, but there's a whole cavalcade of demons out there ... I mean, I think this, you know ... it, it takes, um ... I mean, I ... we need..." She fumbled to a stop, looking at Xander for support. For once she understood ahead of time she was about to say something that might upset everyone. But it needed to be said so Xander finished for her.

"Buffy."

"Buffy," Anya agreed.

"Buffy.." Willow started harshly, looking at the expectant faces around her, looking for encouragement and leadership but she had none of either to offer,"...is not coming back.We failed." Dismay and sorrow filled the others. Stumbling on, attempting to ease their pain, Willow stated,"So ... we're it, gang. Xander, grab the weapons. We're gonna look for Dawn and Spike." She got to her feet slowly. The sound of glass breaking started them all and they whirled to look.

"If we're gonna go, we should go now, they're just getting more and more worked up by the moment," Tara whispered.

"Well, they can't keep it up forever. I mean, maybe they'll party themselves out, you know, tire of this place and move on," Xander offered hopefully. he looked form one face to another, finding little reassurance there. His throat bobbed in a hard swallow,"R-right?"

Gathered in a trashed parking lot the remainder of Razor's Hellions waited for his orders. He regarded them all for a moment, keeping them in suspense. "Say hello to your new home, boys."

The demons broke into a riotous cheer, opening stolen beer and chugging it enthusiastically. Fire barrels cast their eerie shadows on the surrounding concrete.

Back-lit by a massive burning pile of trash, Razor continued, his guttral voice ringing out loud and clear in the smokey night air. "This here is a momentous occasion, the beginning of a new era. Now, no question, the open backroads and highways have been good to us. But we've got ourselves a juicy little burg here, just ripe for the picking. And I ain't in no hurry to leave it, you?"

"Hell no!" the demons chorused as a slender form drew closer, approaching them from behind.

"So I figure, what better way to start off than to hunt down those two bitches responsible for the deaths among our ranks? A symbolic act commemorating the new order around here ... and ridding ourselves of any not-so-pleasant reminders of the old!"

A fluid female voice spoke up and interrupted him,"I have some problems with that...see this is my town." A rumble of dismay stirred in the crowd and they parted so Razor could achieve a clear look at the petite blond standing with her hands on her hips in their midst. Leaden silence fell as all eyes turned toward the girl in her ragged, dirty grave garments. Her head tilted calmly to one side in a curious bird-like gesture, the move of a predator sizing up her prey. Her irises breifly gleamed the color of blood.

"Another one for the fire, boys," Razor commented, eyeing what he wrongly pressumed to be another Buffybot. He ferally grinned, showing a his ragged fangs. "Tear it up!"

As the demons advanced on her, brandishing clubs and whirling chains over their heads, Buffy smiled wicked.

Wandering down the alleyways in an attempt to get home without being seen and attacked, Tara was trying to convince Willow that the failure of the ressurrection spell hadn't been her fault but Willow was remorseful and adamant. They all stopped as a blood stained figure emerged into the alley ahead of them.

"It ... it's the Buffybot." Anya said in relief, taking in the tore black dress and blood splattered blonde-hair. The bot had an odd expression though, and had failed to greet them with her characteristic bubbliness. Or greet them at all for that manner. infact her face creased momentarily in an expression of disgust before smoothing out indifferently once more.

Xander shook his head sarcastically," Ah, peachy. No doubt to lead the wild bunch right to us again. Hey Will, next time this thing's damaged, couldn't ya program it to find the nearest Radio Shack, or..." He broke off at the look on Willow's face. A vaguely hopeful, astonished look.

"Buffy?"

The blond studied them calculatingly for a moment longer before an easy, self-satified smirk bloomed, "That's right. Wanna tell me what I'm doing here?"


	5. Suspicions on the Rise

Ashes to Ashes

First in a Series

Chapter Four: Suspicions on the Rise

By Shelley L. Inks

_Leave a Werewolf and a Vampire alone under any different circumstances..Hell, under these ones when one or the other was decidedly cranky and you'd receive a gory wrestling match worthy of worldwide screening_,Onyx mused as she watched the nightstalker with cheekbones sharp enough to cut glass looking out the window again on his seemingly endless vigil. The backside view was not altogether unpleasant but his pacing was setting her nerves on end and besides that pointless since they hadn't heard the roar of motorcycles in more than two hours.

Left alone with him as he had finally convinced the young Dawn to occupy herself with the robot cleaning her up somewhat, a tense silence had fallen in the dark living room. And she had never been good with silence unless she was trying to sleep or alone. Trusting her instinctively sharp tongue to guide her she abruptly blurted out,"What kind of name is Spike anyway? Sounds like the neighbor's chihuahua."

He stiffened and turned to her abruptly, glaring,"Wot kind of name is Onyx then? Eh? Sounds like.." he trailed off, too anxious to fire back his normal witty retort and fumbled for a moment before coming up with,"A bloody wood Elf or something."

"I do have the pointy ears," she replied cheerfully, completely unfazed. Being up all night had a rejuvenating effect on her until at least noon the next day. Then she knew she'd be likey to crash and sleep for five or six hours. Right now however she was annoyingly perky. He snorted, ignoring her as he turned his black leather clad back to her again. She took the oppotunity to admire the peroxide bleached hair which cast a ghostly halo in the dimness. It was disheveled, dark roots showing, eyes focused but tired, his face a sharp contrast of stark white in the flickering lights of the last dying fire across the street. She had the distinct feeling he was close to coming unhinged. That could be an issue later. Not that she intended to stick around and find out.

She tucked her legs up against her chest and curled her arms around them.Unable to allow the silence to linger she spoke up again,"Has anyone told you you sort of look like an adult Draco Malfoy?"

"I do no...WHO?" he turned, his brow furrowed at her in a mix of annoyance and perplextion. Before the arguement could progress both sat up straight, sniffing. "Someone's coming.."

"I smell it too.." she replied softly, her mental hackles raised. The sickly thick scent of blood grew stronger, mixed with sweat, adrenaline, and a faint undercurrent of something less easy to name and much fouler. It was like trying to describe the smell of a child abuser or a serial rapist or even a terrorist. A combination of madness, fear, snake venom, decay, and rotten eggs. She could no sooner have explained the color red to a blind man than put that smell into words but it was there, though undetectible to the Human nose.

Soon the voices accompanying the stench were with in the range of normal hearing, four of them at least, mostly female. Her head hunched down slightly to the level of her shoulders as the doorknob started to turn. Spike snatched up a heavy iron table lamp base and crossed the room to the foyer, holding it at ready like a club. Only Vampiric lightning reflexes saved Xander from a nasty bump on the head as the young man entered and flicked on a light switch. He recoiled, giving the Vampire a surprised look that quickly faded to disgust.

"Geez, lurk much?"

"Oh, it's you," Spike lowered the lamp, returning the dark-haired boy's look of distaste with a elegant curl of his lip that ended somewhere between a sneer and a snarl. He offered a curt nod to Willow and Tara as they entered, Anya trailing behind. The three girls featured a variety of nervous gestures, wringing their hands, toying with their hair, and averting their eyes to take in the already familiar scenery.

"Yah it's us. Which means you can leave now," An edge crept into Xander's tone, more eager to have the Vampire off the premise than usual. He hadn't even noticed their company as of yet.

"Not so fast, Nancy. Since when d'you think I take order from yer likes? I could rip your head off one-handed and drink from your brain stem..." he glared, the two men locked eye to eye in a fierce testosterone charged clash of wills.

"Spike..."Willow began, trying to clue him in.

"Would that be after you collapse on the ground holding your head and screaming like a little girl?" Xander taunted

"You poncey lil'..."

_"SPIKE!"_ Willow snapped more loudly, gesturing behind her to a well-known figure framed in the doorway. Her hair disheveled, black coffin dress caked with clods of dirt and blood, the Slayer watched the confrontation solemnly without uttering a word. She glanced up and met Spike's azure gaze without blinking then looked away from him without interest.

The bleached blond gave a dismissive snort,"Yeah? I've seen the bloody bot before. Didn't think she'd patch up so.." He froze, his mouth still slightly agap just as the door behind him opened and Dawn reentered with the Buffybot in tow. Disbelief filled his face as he looked from the copy to the original. Dawn grasp his arm, digging her fingers till they drew blood through his coat but he failed to notice. "Slayer..?" he croaked out hoarsely.

"Buffy..?" Dawn gasped then suddenly shoved past the other Scoobies and embraced her sister,"BUFFY!" Excited voices mixed and mingled all at once. Buffy stood stiffly, looking straight ahead, Dawn's sobbing form clinging to her, before she slowly seemed to remember the gesture require a response and lifted her arms gradually as if they were too heavy. One rested calmly across Dawn's back, the other patting her shoulders disinterestedly as she ignored the the barrage of questions. Only Spike, Onyx, and a vaguely dejected looking Buffybot stood back.

The Vampire watched, his sickened look returning as they pestered her with trivial queries then Willow was forced to explain the spell she'd used to bring the Slayer back. He edged around the group as the discussion continued.

"We didn't think it worked, but..."

"Is she going to be okay?"

"I'm gonna be fine. I remember. You brought me back."

No one noticed when Spike slipped out the front door. No one but Onyx, that is, who waited for the group to move into the living room then left as unnoticed as a shadow. She shut the door of the Summer's house behind her, crossing the porch and decending the stairs. Predawn hours brought forth the call of innocent tiny songbirds hidden somewhere in the nearby foilage, unaware of the disaster that had fallen on the town. She winced slightly at the shrill chirps. Her ears perked slightly at another unpleasant sound, that of someone crying. Night eyes trailed across the lawn and picked out Spike leaning against a tree, his back to her. His shoulders trembled softly with faint, muffled sobs. Sympathy welled in her, coaxing her to open her mouth though she hadn't the faintest clue what to say that would ease his troubled heart as she didn't fully understand his plight.

Behind her, the door's hinges creaked again as the dark-haired youth and his girlfriend emerged, still talking.

"I think Willow's wrong. I don't think she's particularly normal at all," the girl stated.

"Well, she just got back. Give it time. I bet in a week she'll be our little Bufferin again..."

"Oh yes, cause six or seven days, that's all you really need to get over eternal Hell experiences," she replied somewhat sarcastically, neither taking notice of Onyx who had stepped off the porch and was cloaked in shadows.Suddenly the boy looked off to his left, hearing the soft sobs.

"Who's that? Spike?"

The Vampire stiffened and abruptly straightened up, lifting one hand to wipe his eyes roughly. Passing the Werewolf without seeing her, Xander and Anya approached Spike

"What are you doing out here? I hope you're not going to start your little obsession now that she's around again..." Xander collmented callously with more than a hint of puffed up bravardo. Without warning Spike spun around and grabbed Xander by his shirt, slamming him violently up against the tree trunk and pinning him there. Hostility wafted of him and he seemed ready to explode into game-face and rip the young man's throat out.

"Hey!" Anya protested.

"You didn't tell me. You brought her back and you didn't tell me..." the bleached blond accused, his voice a mixture of threat, dismay, confusion and betrayel. He bit down on his lip so hard the salty taste of his own blood filled his mouth as he accused the Human with his eyes. Xander held his gaze for a moment then dropped it. Perhaps feeling guilty. You could never be sure these days. So few people felt remorse for the suffering of others. Yet here they were, mortal, well, supernatural enemies from before recorded time and Onyx felt a deep pity welling in her for the Vampire.

"Well, now you know,"Xander muttered gruffly without a hint of apology. Unable to stiffle her contempt for the callous young man Onyx slipped away before she interfered in manners that didn't concern her. She had ideas of her own about the Slayer, ones no doubt the Scoobies would not care to hear. But once her suspicions were arroused it was as throwing gasoline on a flame.

"I worked beside you all summer,"Spike stammered, still trying to wrap his mind around the facts. Buffy was back. Alive. They hadn't told him. A spell. A spell that could have gone wrong. Tampering with black magic was always dangerous and ressurection spells were all but impossible even for the most gifted witches and warlocks. He could have told them that. Giles would have if they'd clued him in, but ofcourse they'd excluded the Watcher as well. Because he would have known better. He would have stopped them. Damn them. Damn them all. Foolish, arrogant children.

"We didn't tell you. It was just ... we didn't, okay?"

Spike stared at Xander for a moment longer then released his grip on him but the boy didn't move away. He remained in close proximaty, glaring at the other man,"Listen. I've figured it out," Spike growled out angrily," Maybe you haven't, but I have." Tears still welled in his eyes but he refused to let them spill over. he pointed sharply at the house,"Willow knew there was a chance that she'd come back wrong. So wrong that you'd have ... that she would have to get rid of what came back. And I wouldn't let her. If any part of that was Buffy, I wouldn't let her. And that's why she shut me out."

"What are you talking about? Willow wouldn't do that."

"Oh. Is that right?" he demanded sarcastically.

"Look," Xander snapped as Spike scoffed,"You're just covering. Don't tell me you're not happy. Look me in the eyes, and tell me when you saw Buffy alive, that wasn't the happiest moment of your entire existence."

Spike shot Xander a "you just don't get it" scowl, before he stormed off, his trench coat fluttering behind him. He paused on the sidewalk, his back to them as he snarled out," That's the thing about magic. There's always consequences. _Always!"_

Onyx wrinkled her nose as she stepped into the parking lot, the dying fires in the burn barrels casting an orange tinted smoke into the air. It was just before sun up, the horizon already lightening. Her boots skidded in something and she looked down to find the same black congeled blood soaking the pavement as it had her clothes earlier. A variety of demon limbs and bits, the source of the overpowering scent that had lead her here, lay scattered in the aftermath of a massacre. The question that haunted her was _who was responsible?_ Had the local vampires banded together to defend their home territory? Unlikely. The Hellions would have easily slaughtered over a hundred Vampires. She had some ideas but wanted to confirm them.

She knelt amid the bits and pieces thoughtfully and ran her fingertips through a patch of ichor. Her ears twitched, a small sound, a whimper reaching them. _Drip. Drip. Drip. _The sounds of fresh blood dropping and a trail of it were leading away from her down behind a couple of dumpsters. Smiling grimly she followed the gruesome trail.

With a war cry the demon leapt out of a rusted trash reciprical and tried to tackle her to the ground but she was quick, far too quick and strong for him to compensate for his oversight before he was shoved face down on the ground, his clawed hands wrenched behind his back. Or hand, she mused, realizing the trail of blood she'd been following had originated from the stump of his left arm which had been torn off at the elbow. Heedless of the gore she held his limbs in place and leaned down to hiss in his ear,"Alright, Pretty Boy, I want some answers. Starting with what put you in this state."

Her voice dripped sarcasm, for pretty he was not. Allowing that the Hellion had a flat, noseless face and file-sharpened teeth he was also overweight and the leather vest he wore over his stained gray sweat shirt was far from complimentary even if it hadn't been soaked through with blood.

"Go screw yourself, bitch," he choked out in a surprisingly tenor pitch.

She raised a composed eyebrow, her golden eyes cool and slightly haughty. "Wrong answer." With icy indifference she seized the thick index finger on his remaining hand and snapped it at the second knuckle. The demon let loose a howl of pain, panting as she gripped his middle finger now.

"Okay! OKAY! It was the Slayer! She ripped into us, tore Razor and the other guys apart. I ain't never seen anything like it. Those claws..."

"Slayers are Human. They don't have claws," the Werewolf interrupted him impatiently.She was comtemplating an old trick used in the Vietnam War which involved snapping part of the spine and leaving the victume paralyzed from the neck down, essentially a "Head on a Stick" but her demon biology was a shade rusty and she wasn't quite sure which vertebrae to crack.

"Hey, I'm telling you what I saw, alright?" he shrilled indignantly as if reading her mind of her intentions,"Whatever she was she sure as HELL wasn't no _Human!"_She considered this a moment before letting him up. He backed away from her and studied his unlikely attacker from a safer distance,"What the Hall are _you _anyway?"

"I'm trouble,"Onyx replied cooly, the lack of emotion of her face somehow frightening to behold. "What's your name?"

"Klyed," he muttered uneasily, clearly wondering if she meant to finish him off. When her topaz eyes finally dismissed him he felt a surge of relief at having cheated death twice in one night. This female was not the same sort of abomination as thenow demonic Slayer but she wasa force of nature to be reckoned with, that much his small mind could comprehend.

"Well, Klyed,"She picked up a length of scorched chain and twirled it over her head before discarding it was a loud _clank, _then spotted something more to her liking. Crouching amid a pile of charred flesh she pulled free Razor's springloaded claws set which she calmly stripped from a severed hand and pulled on, flexing her fingers. The leather glove was soaked and stiff with drying demon blood which had shrunken it just enough to fit. She flewed her fingers thoughtfully, watching the blades slide into place and retract. "If I were you, I'd get the Hell outta Dodge..."


	6. Mirror, Mirror

Ashes to Ashes

First in a Series

Chapter Five: Mirror, Mirror

By Shelley L. Inks

* * *

The thing that looked like Buffy Summers sat alone in her darkened room, yet saw everything in perfect detail with the dark adapted eyes of a cat. She stood, moving away from her bed and approached a mirror. It reflected exactly as she appeared to the world, supple flesh and elegant bone, then flickered and suddenly an image of a huge horned and clawed beast coming at her, roaring and with eyes glowing red filled the glass before it began to smoke and turned entirely black.

She sniffed then turned her gaze to the rest of the room. Pathetically, disgustingly..Human. A multicolored, glittering, miniature umbrella with a small metal plaque attached to the shaft, Buffy's Class Protector award which had already been broken once, began to smoke, then the edges curled in and withered like a large flower collapsing on itself. On the bookshelf the overstuffed plushy pig, Mr. Gordo, shrank into a ball of blacked ashe. Unimpressed she glanced at a bulletin board covered with pictures of the Scoobies in various combinations, all smiling. Suddenly the images changed. All the flesh melted away and the smiling faces became dead skulls gaping in horror. Images of playful picnics were replaced by scenes of grisly massacres. Family snapshots were now gruesome police file material worthy.

All superfacial. Why bother. She rolled her eyes. This was not nearly so satisfying as as had been the torture and disembowelment of the Hellions. Real carnage was the only soothment for this burning desire.

She wanders through the house into another room. Willow and Tara lay peacefully asleep and unawares in each other's arms. Silhouetted at the foot of the bed, lit by moonlight, she tilted her head thoughtfully. Tara began to age. Rapidly, skin losing it's healthy glow, becoming wrinkled and loose, so pale a map of blue veins became visible underneath. Eyes sunk back into hollows, overshadowed, as her breath became a gasping wheeze. Her boney fingers shook as they cling to the comforter. A dribble of blood oozed from one nostril. Willow's brow creased and she snuggled closer as Tara moaned softly. Boring. besides, she sensed power from these two, power she might be able to turn to her own advantages. She blinked and Tara was now whole and healthy once more, utterly undisturbed.

Silently she turned and left the room, passing Dawn's door without bothering to glance in. A Key that no longer opened doors was useless. Halfway down the stairs she paused to look over her shoulder. The Buffybot stood on the top landing, tilting her head.

"You shouldn't be up. Willow says you should rest. Willow knows. She is very smart, and gay!" she added with a perky smile as if this were the most convincing arguement anyone could offer.

"Do you really believe it matters anymore what you think?" The flesh and blood being chuckled lowly, glancing up at the bot, her eyes flickering red. "They don't need you anymore...you're nothing but a sad little toy. Now that I'm here...they're just going to pull your batteries out and stuff you back in the basement to collect dust. Or melt you down..."

The Buffybot's face twitched, losing her perfect magazine worthy smile,"No, that's silly! Willow is our best friend! And Dawn is our sister.."

"You don't have friends. You're not even a lowly Human. You're a thing, a tool. One that no longer has any use." The creature shrugged and continued down the steps to the foyer, reaching for the door knob when a hand clamped down on her arm.

The Buffybot frowned,"You are not being very nice. And you shouldn't be going out...I'm going to tell Willow." She turned and walked purposely toward the stairs until something wrapped around her throat and jerked her off her feet. Staring in confusion from a new and disconcerting angle, she watched as a thin, very long reptilian tongue slithered back and vanished into the Real Buffy's mouth, her eyes glowing red like hot coals in the darkness. "That is not a normal way for Human eyes to look.."

"Why does everyone think computers are so smart?" the demonic Buffy sneered as she stomped down of the bot's chest, crushing several important gears and machinisms. Without waiting for a response she grabbed the bot by the hair and hauled it outside. "Technology is flawed...a crutch for those who do not possess true power or are afraid to summon it.." She ripped the lid off a heavy duty trash can and proceeded to break off each of the bot's limbs in order to make it fit, then stuffed the entire automatron into the can and slammed the lid down on her face, once, twice, three times, shattering the detailed work.

The thing that had been Buffy Summers then allowed herself a smile and cracked her neck,"I feel better already..."

* * *

It wasn't in the house. One sniff told Onyx as much. She was too late to catch it before it left. That might not be such a bad thing. Convincing Dawn and the others of her suspicions wasn't going to be an easy task. Better to just take care of it. She'd never needed help before. Okay, after the change most of her confrontations with evil involved Vampires or the occasional would-be rapist, but she was confident. After fifteen minutes of tracking she had changed her mind about the good fortune of not catching it before it left the Summers' residence.

The Slayer...or whatever was pretending to be the Slayer...wasn't exactly hard to find. She'd left one heck of a trail. Granted, Onyx attributted some of the fire damage and broken windows to the Hellions but every so often she came across a demon corse that looked like it had been flash-fried. Then things started to get worse. In the park she found two boys. Just kids, really, maybe Dawn's age. Maybe they'd pictured themselves as punks, gang material that could face the dangers of the night unscathed...maybe they'd snuck out to shoot up...whatever their past sins it really didn't matter now.

She knelt by one of them, ignoring the flies buzzing around his corpse. His face was locked in a look of abject terror, eyes sagging open too wide, mouth frozen in a gasp of horror. A gaping wound in his chest lay exposed, heart ripped out. Maybe he just hit on the wrong girl. She shook her head and reached out to close his eyes, then her sensed prickled. Werewolves had incredubly keen senses of smell and hearing, but like most animals they could also just tell when something was coming up behind them.

Onyx lunged and rolled out of the way onto her feet just as a foot stamped down where her hand had just been, crushing the poor unfortunate's skull with a sound like shattering china. Considering even with her healing abilities a completely pulverized hand would have taken time to recover, the dark-haired young woman was very grateful she had avoided it.

The young woman before her offered her a super model worthy smile. It was the Buffybot. Well, it looked more like the Buffybot than that beraggled grave fresh individual she'd met back at the Summers' house. A little clean up went a long way. But it didn't cover the scent of charred flesh and brimestone that radiated from it. It made her want to vomit.

"You're not who I expected...who are you?" Buffy asked pleasantly, as if they were just making small talk. The insanity of expecting introductions after just trying to cripple someone hadn't escaped the other woman. But when unfamiliar with one's opponent humoring their madness sometimes helped you glean information.

"Onyx. I'm new in town."

"Oh...you picked a bad time to move here."

"Is anytime a good time to come to the Hellmouth?"

Buffy laughed. It was a pleasant, musical laugh, which was somehow creepier than a booming, echoing evil laugh. Maybe because it sounded so normal, so..Human."You have a sense of humor...I like you."

Onyx's nostrils flared slightly at the foul scent of sulfur that wafted over her from a passing breeze. Her face contronted in disgust,"Sorry I can't say the same.."

"Heh...You think you can fight me? I'm not just some demon, little puppy. I am something that you can't even conceive of... The First Evil. Beyond sin, beyond death, beyond comprehension. I am in the heart and soul of every being that's ever walked this world or ever will...like cancer eating away from the inside."

"That's gotta be hard to fit on business cards," the Werewolf replied drily before circling around her. She was a bit put off that the thing seemed to know what she was, which sort of lost her her big advantage, but no time to be negative. Rip it's head off first, deal with who and what it was later. Seemed like a sensible strategy.

Right up until the supposed Slayer moved forward faster than she had thought possible and punched her in the face, then in the stomach, so hard Onyx was sent crashing into the jungle gym, denting it completely out of proper shape. She grunted and pushed herself up onto her palms and knees just as slender hands wrapped around her neck, hoisting her off the ground and starting to choke her. Not good. Even a Slayer shouldn't be this strong. She kicked out, claws shredding through the toes of her boots and tearing into the Buffy-thing's stomach. A loose coil of slick intestine should have fallen out like wet rope but instead the thing hardly flinched. In fact her foot was starting to burn viciously.

_You've gotta be kidding me..._ she thought as the Slayer brought a knee up into her lower chest and she both heard and felt the sickening crack of breaking ribs. She coughed up blood and spat it in Buffy's face, using the distraction to bash her forehead against the other girl's. It felt like beating her forehead against a rock wall. Though she achieved the desired effect of being dropped the Slayer-beast never let up, repeatedly punching and kicking her in the stomach and chest, each blow hard enough to send her rolling another two feet until she was smashed up against the slid.

Dazed and blinking, the newcomer panted for breath, unable to focus her senses, certain the Slayer was coming in for the killing blow. And then something she'd never thought she'd be thankful for. Vampires! The struggle and the spilled blood had drawn a trio of them like bees to honey. Evidentally they mistook her for being one of their own because a gothy looking male with stringy black hair mostly in dreadlocks pounced on the Slayer-beast from behind and sank his teeth in, growling. Suddenly he released his bite hold, spitting and shrieking as if acid were burning the inside of his mouth. Smoke escaped from between his fangs.

Although their species had been at odds since as long as anyone could recall, Onyx tried to get her voice to issue out a warning but all that came out was a croak. It was pointless anyway. Buffy flipped the first Vampire over her head and tossed him into the swings just as the other two came at her from opposite directions. Not waiting around to see them torn limb from limb, the she-wolf staggered to her feet, her body rippling, changing to wolf form. She darted out of the park, limping badly but not daring to look back. She hadn't put a damn scratch on that monster!

Beaten and bloodied, she staggered down a maze of streets then finally collapsed behind a dumpster. Blood ran from gashes on her forhead into her eyes as her skin set about slowly knitting itself back together. She guessed that no less that four ribs were cracked if not broken completely. A soft whimper escaped her. Unwilling to trust that she hadn't left a bloody trail for the creature to track much as she had started out, she shifted back to Huamn form and limped towards the neon glowing cross of a nearby church.

_Not a religious person...but any port in a storm.._ she mused as her fingers fumbled at the door, shuting it behind her. She drug one foot behind her to the small ornate fountain behind the pulpet and and slumped down with her back to the cool porcelin. After a moment's hesitation she pried her ruined boot off her right foot, biting back a snarl. Three toes had been eaten away by whatever foul substance flowed in the Slayer's veins now. Do it before you lose your nerve She reached up, located one of the tiny bottles used for religious rites, and filled it from the clear pool that seemed so deceptively gentle and soothing. In a moment she knew she'd be cursing it.

Heart pounding in her throat, blood pulsing in her ears like drums that drown out all other sounds, she set to purifying the wound. Holy water trickled over her skin and scalded the injury. She didn't scream. Or howl. Or even vomit. Kudos. She did almost black out twice before she was satisfied that the progression of the acid had stopped and all traces of it were cleansed. Already the seared flesh was starting to attaempt reconstruction. One of the blessings of being born furry. No wound but that inflicted by silver was perminent. Not that she was eager to test that by taking on Leatherface and his chainsaw if she ever saw him.

Sweat and tears ran down her face as she lay with her cheek pressed to the floor, almost hyperventilating. Dark spots danced before her eyes. Just because she could survive it didn't mean her pain tolerance was all that high. _Need to rest, need to lay low. So tired._


End file.
